


He Who Fights Monsters

by azhdarchidaen



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who: Eighth Doctor Adventures - Various Authors, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: (Hiveminds Are Cool), (That Means Hiveminds), Alien Biology, Alien Doctor, Angst, Anxiety, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Body Horror, Crossover, Drift Side Effects, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kaiju Newt, Mental Break/Disassociation, Outsider POVs, Platonic Relationships, Triggers/Warnings For:, Violence, Xenophobia, neuroatypical character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-16 20:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2283360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azhdarchidaen/pseuds/azhdarchidaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You could say that aliens ran in Kate Lethbridge-Stewart's family. She'd seen some of the worst -- and, admittedly, also best -- that they had to offer. And still the kaiju had taken her by surprise. Had taken them all by surprise. But now they were gone, and in their wake they'd left a world that had only ever learned to fear the unknown. </p><p>But the unknown and fear both have a tendency to bite back. Kate now finds herself in the middle of an ideological battle to decide the future of the defense of Earth -- a future complicated by the startling consequences of that final battle, and the arrival of an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to give a shout-out to RBMIfan (aromantic-eight on tumblr) for plotting this whole thing with me, putting up with a lot of my over-excited flailing, nit-picky research, and writer's block, and generally just helping me make this story actually happen.

**“Wer mit Ungeheuern kämpft, mag zusehn, dass er nicht dabei zum Ungeheuer wird. Und wenn du lange in einen Abgrund blickst, blickt der Abgrund auch in dich hinein.”**

[He who fights monsters must take care, lest he thereby become a monster himself. For if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into _you_.]

\- Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

**` March 15th, 2025 ` **

**`Hong Kong Shatterdome` **

**`08:32.05 hrs`**

* * *

 

“...installed new venting system, finished integrating post Mark-III interfaces in Conn-Pod technology, cleared up final traces of rust and water damage...”

Raleigh Becket was flipping through a fat dossier, slips of pink and yellow and white trying desperately to escape from the manila folder. He held it tucked in his left arm, so as not to lose anything while walking down the halls of the Shatterdome with Mako Mori.

“Hell, I’m thinking if the progress on Vulcan Specter continues like this, we could be operational for a drift test by… Tuesday?” he said, looking to his co-pilot for confirmation.

She nodded. “The last time I spoke with LOCCENT I believe that was their intent. That was before we left, however. Things may have changed.”

“Be good to check in. ‘Course, that also means one of us’ll have to run these specs down to K-Science so Gottlieb can do the number crunching. Simulation turns out wrong and it’s no drift for us.”

Mako smiled. Drift bond aside, she could tell from tone of voice alone that Raleigh was itching to get down and see the engineers’ work with his own eyes. She couldn’t blame him though -- she was too. But as Raleigh had pointed out, that wasn’t all that needed to be done.

She smiled and tilted her head towards him “One of these days,” she said, “you are going to say ‘one of us’ and not mean me.”

Raleigh was caught by surprise. “Well…” he said, flustered, “you know... I mean, if you don’t _wanna_ \--”

“--It’s fine. You are anxious to get to the Jaeger Bay, and I wouldn’t mind speaking with Dr. Gottlieb anyways. Go on. I will take the readouts.”

“You sure?” he asked. His actions didn’t quite mirror his words -- he handed her the Vulcan Specter dossier without hesitation.

_“Go.”_

“Alright, meet up with you in a few!” Walking backwards, Raleigh grinned and gave her a mock salute before turning on his heel.  

“And say ‘hi’ to the scientists for me,” he shouted back over his shoulder. “I haven’t seen them since before we left.”

Mako gave a smile as he vanished down the corridor and around a corner. His excitement was understandable -- they’d been away from Hong Kong longer than either of them liked.

She and Raleigh had returned the night before from an expedition that was really more publicity tour than anything. More than a bit out of her element. She was fairly certain her nerves had been less shot facing _kaiju_ than they were around cameras -- although having her drift partner by her side certainly helped with both.

But the PPDC needed to regain esteem in the public eye if it was going to keep funding the construction and restoration of Jaegers. And not only was that her real passion, but it was an important one. The Kaiju Science team was making no promises that the Breach would stay shut. And humanity was currently undefended from any possible new threats. The quicker they could get even a single Jaeger operational, the safer they’d all be.

...Which was exactly why she needed to drop the stats on their latest progress off with K-Science.

Well, drop off the stats _and_ greetings. And not just Raleigh’s -- she did like talking with Dr. Gottlieb. Even Hong Kong wasn’t a complete relief from her trip. The Shatterdome was home, but it was still other things.

Big.

Loud.

Very busy.

In short, still bit overwhelming. It was always nice to spend some time around one of the quieter members of the PPDC staff.

...Admittedly, the K-Science lab was usually far from quiet itself (largely due to the interference of a Dr. Newton Geiszler…), but Mako and Dr. Gottlieb had a sort of unspoken agreement that their shared preference for calm would be respected. It was an attitude she would appreciate right now.

As she walked in the direction of the lab, she smiled again. It was always nice when things worked out that way.

 

\----

 

Raleigh stood on the Jaeger Bay floor, looking up at the progress on Vulcan Specter with a tad bit of awe. It was impressive, really, how much J-Tech had been able to do with it since it was brought in from Oblivion Bay. Equal parts intelligent planning and Mako’s intensity -- she really knew how to throw herself into a project. He could see how they’d gotten Gipsy Danger working again with her at the reigns.

The old Australian Mark-III may not have been the Jaeger he’d piloted and loved, but it was still a sight to behold. Once the PPDC had been granted salvage rights, they’d gone through a list of candidates to determine the best Jaeger to resurrect -- taking into account things like relative strength, extent of damage, and just plain compatibility with current resources and pilots. Vulcan had won out -- and Herc’s connections to the Sydney Shatterdome (and Mako and Raleigh’s piloting experience) had weighed heavily into the decision. Not to mention its restoration was being aided by the fact that the equipment used to work on the similarly-modeled Gipsy was still in place in Hong Kong.

“Hey, Becket-boy, up top!” came a voice from behind him. Raleigh swiveled around to see Tendo Choi approaching him -- coffee mug in one hand, the other extended in the air for a high-five.

“ ‘Morning to you too,” he said, clapping his hand to the LOCCENT officer’s and grinning. “How you doing?”

“Eh, same as ever,” he said, taking a sip from his mug. “Bone-tired, kinda hungry. How was your trip?”

“Long,” he admitted. “Think it bothered Mako more than me, but I could tell both of us just wanted to get back here. For the quiet _and_ the Jaegers.”

“What, didn’t enjoy being the hero of the day?” Tendo teased. “I’m pretty sure at this point your time is practically a commodity.”

“Well,” Raleigh said, scratching the back of his neck. “If it’s a commodity that can get the PPDC more funding, it’s one I’m willing to deal in. But that’s about all.”

“I gotta say -- all this putting on impressions crap is almost more frustrating than the monster fighting,” Tendo said. “Your trip, all the prep back here for the upcoming diplomatic visit… it’s easier to know you’ve done a good job when the results are clear. Like smacking a 200-ton something in the jaw.”

“That’s _right_ ,” Raleigh said, his memory triggered, “we’ve got those government people coming in later this week.”

“Tomorrow, looks like,” Tendo said, taking another sip from his mug. “I’ve got half the Shatterdome trying to get me to take a look at Jaeger progress, and the other half asking about prep for our visitors.”

“Sounds fun,” Raleigh said, his eyes wandering back to Vulcan Specter. “Who exactly are they, again?”

“What, the suits?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve heard much about them.”

“Well,” Tendo said. “I’m not sure how much of that I’m actually cleared to talk about. Technically even cleared to _know_ about…”

“So you’re gonna tell me as much as you know.”

“So I’m gonna tell you a _summary_ of what I know, that’s all.”

“Sure you are,” Raleigh laughed.

“Hey, hey. All I know is that they’re some alien task force. Deal with extraterrestrial threats, that kind of thing. I think I first heard about them in San Francisco, they’ve got some roots there. Main force is British though.”

“And they haven’t worked with the PPDC before? Seems like we’d have similar goals.”

“Think they were too hush-hush for that, you know? All I got for you is that some higher-ups somewhere sent the Marshal a proposition that, what with the Breach hopefully being gone for good, the next step might be to merge with more general organizations.”

“They’re more optimistic than we are,” Raleigh said.

“It’s not optimism. It’s the same whatever it was that possessed them to think they could keep out the kaiju with a wall and let the ocean fill up like some kind of Godzilla goldfish bowl.”

Raleigh snortend. “Short-sightedness.”

“Short- _mindedness_ ,” Tendo said. “Anyways, UNIT -- that’s these guys we got coming tomorrow -- is apparently supposed to ‘explore future directions for the two organizations after recent developments' with us. Or something like that.” He’d appended the more formal bit with air-quotes.

“Hey, as long as I don’t have to go to the meetings,” Raleigh said. “Had enough of that. I just wanna get back to Jaegers.”

“Well,” Tendo said, taking another swig from his mug. He frowned into it, noting it was nearly empty, then continued. “Rebuilding, I _can_ talk about -- ‘cause remember, you didn’t hear any of that other stuff from me.”

“ ‘Course not. Talk to me about Vulcan.”

“Good news on that front -- the Mark-III restoration program’s really been picking up speed.”

“Yeah, Mako picked up the most recent dossier, we were just checking it out. Can’t believe how quickly things have been coming.”

“Ahead of schedule,” Tendo said. “The J-Tech team learned a lot about retrofitting Mark IIIs from Gipsy. Thank God for the learning curve -- it’s good news for everyone who’s been working overtime to get the thing operational.”

“You just wanna get a good night’s sleep for once,” Raleigh teased.

“Don’t we all.”

"Hey, now that  _was_ one of the highlights of the trip..."

"You lucky bastard."

Raleigh grinned. “Anyways, Mako and I were hoping to run a simulation with the new data later today -- she just went down to K-Science to run some of the numbers by Gottlieb.”

“I’m afraid I’ve already been stolen,” came a voice from the left. Sure enough, the scientist was approaching, likely to speak with Tendo. He huffed slightly, coming to a halt, and rested both hands on his cane. “Though you’ll be pleased, I think, to know that it renders her expedition redundant. The simulation was a success.”

“Fantastic!” Raleigh said. And it was -- for everyone. If things went well with Vulcan, they wouldn’t be entirely undefended for much longer. “And don’t worry about it,” he added “I’m sure Mako’ll just come up here when she realizes no one’s there.”

“On the contrary -- the lab isn’t empty. We’ll probably have to go down and rescue her before my colleague talks her ears off.”

“...did Dr. Geiszler make some big discovery last night?”

“No, it’s just that in my experience, Newton lacks a conversational off-button, and I’m afraid Miss Mori’s probably too polite to _shut him up_.”

\----

“...and, see, since, as far as we can tell, kaiju DNA contains genetic information for the _entire species_ , in trying to reverse-bioengineer the specimens we’ve got I’ve started coming across patterns that make it look like the kaiju-creation process involves epigenetic manipulation -- they’ve got similar coding, but the phenotypes expressed are _entirely_ different!”

Mako nodded politely, hugging her dossier and knowing full well that, though she’d not understood most of what Dr. Geiszler was talking about, there was also little chance he minded. Or -- to be entirely honest -- could even tell.

“...’course, I’ll have to try sequencing more of the kaiju genome if we  _really_ wanna examine the… woah.” The scientist’s chatter faltered as he leaned heavily on the countertop behind him, putting a hand to his forehead.

“Is something wrong, Dr. Geiszler?” Mako asked. He shook his head, then winced as if retroactively reconsidering -- and regretting -- the action. His words, however, failed to match his response.

“Nah, just a little headache. Might be a little tired. Nothing big.”

Something in the back of Mako’s head whispered that dizzy spells weren’t a good symptom no matter _how_ tired you were, but she wasn’t about to contradict the man. She knew as well as anyone that overworking oneself was probably the most common malady across the PPDC. Evidence enough was provided by the dozen or so empty coffee cups haphazardly congregated across Dr. Geiszler’s side of the laboratory.

“Sometimes when I am having trouble sleeping,” she suggested, “I make myself a cup of tea before bed.”

“Having trouble sleeping? No, that’s not the problem. Really. I swear. Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving a hand.

Mako eyed him curiously.

“Thanks for the advice though!” he tacked on quickly.

“Of course,” she said, noting as she said so that he reached for his current coffee mug. Maybe she was just reading too much into things -- _anyone_ on that much caffeine was bound to be a little jittery.

...Especially someone who usually operated about two speeds faster than the average human being to begin with.

But any further contemplation on the subject was interrupted by a voice from the hallway.

“Newton, _please_ tell me you’re not wasting Miss Mori’s time with your incessant prattling.”

Moments later, its owner crossed the threshold into the K-Science lab. Dr. Gottlieb looked just cross enough for it to border on comical, huffing slightly from the journey to the lab. He was followed by Raleigh, who seemed to have appraised the situation -- and be amused by it -- the same way Mako had.

“We were talking about _tea_!”

“Oh, _very_ productive, then,” Dr. Gottlieb said. He turned to Mako, swiveling on his cane. “Now, I hear you’re paying us a visit over the matter of a simulation?”

“Yes, sorry, Dr. Gottlieb,” Mako apologized, walking over towards him and preparing to hand over the dossier that had inspired her visit in the first place.

“Oh, I wasn’t blaming _you_ in the slightest, Miss Mori. I’m perfectly aware of some of the hazards this room can pose, even to those with the best of intentions.”

“ _Dude_ \--”

Dr. Gottlieb cleared his throat, ignoring the hint of a protestation entirely. “--I think you’ll be pleased to learn that it’s already been run. Everything checks up quite nicely.”

“They’re thinking a drift test sometime in the next week,” Raleigh said. He was excited enough about the news to interrupt slightly and announce it.

Dr. Geiszler perked up -- apparently this information was as new to him as it was to her. “Good news for Spock?” he asked.

His colleague’s eyes screwed up in frustration as he moved pinch the bridge of his nose. “If you could for one _moment_ maintain even an _ounce_ of maturity…” he muttered. “Yes, we’re discussing the tests run on Vulcan Specter this morning.”

“Sweet,” Dr. Geiszler said. He looked oddly pleased with himself, which lead Mako to assume the nickname for the Jaeger had been a point of contention between the two scientists before.

Like most things.

“I was hoping we could run a test before those government people showed up,” Raleigh told her. “But Tendo says it looks like they’ll be here sometime tomorrow.”

“Really?” Dr. Gottlieb asked. Apparently it was his turn to receive new information. “I wonder what exactly it is they want.”

“Probably nothing important,” Raleigh said. “It mostly sounds like a bunch of diplomatic favors. Can’t see it involving anything really important.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

` March 16th, 2025 `

`Hong Kong Shatterdome`

`03:13.54 hrs`

* * *

Herc Hansen shivered slightly and frowned up at the sky. He hadn’t been expecting rain, so the sudden shift in the weather caught him umbrella-less. But no doubt about it, the wind had changed -- and he could have sworn he’d just felt a raindrop on his head. 

In the early-morning dark he couldn’t tell if the clouds had gone grey or not -- the only things visible were the brightly-lit Shatterdome landing pad, and the swatches of its light reflected in the ocean nearby. And somewhere in the distance, two little bits of neon that were almost certainly the vehicle he was waiting to greet.

Next to him and at his feet, Max whined slightly. Perhaps he was sensing the change in the weather as well. Herc leaned down to rub the dog’s head.

“Not much longer now, then,” he said. “You’d better play nice with our guests, you big lug.”

Max simply snuffled a bit in return, and Herc continued scratching his head. As had been the norm since Operation Pitfall, he was simply glad for the company.

The original intent hadn’t been for Herc to be out here alone in the rain at an ungodly hour. In fact, the Marshal had planned to greet everyone himself. But their visitors, it seemed, were determined to arrive at the most inconvenient time possible. The Marshal was tied up in some way or another -- Herc hadn’t caught quite what, though with some of the red tape they’d been dealing with as of late he’d be willing to bet it was political -- and the duty had fallen to him.

He sighed slightly. Every time he thought about that sort of thing -- the Marshal’s duties, that is (and how he wasn’t doing them) -- there was a niggling bit of guilt in the back of his mind. Like maybe he should be. Plenty of other people had wanted him to stay on as Marshal even after the hectic nature of his promotion during the closure of the Breach.

But _he_ hadn’t.

...Okay, maybe a tiny part of him had. But it was buried somewhere beneath the dear-god-don’t-make-me-do-this part of him that didn’t particularly want to be in charge of _anyone’s_ lives anymore. Much less the entire Shatterdome’s.

Some people had called it mourning, some had called it shirking duty. He didn’t think it was quite either. It was something different. Something more… empty. More hollow. A loyal handful had stood up for him, but the people who’d best seemed to _understand_ when they did so were Mako and the Becket kid. Herc could only assume it had something to do with Pentecost, and Alaska, and sympathy.

So here he was, in a sort of duty-limbo. Sometimes his job looked more like an authority position, sometimes he was still more of a Ranger. And sometimes he did just plain stuff that needed to be done. Paperwork, negotiations… or waiting for a helicopter in the rain. The PPDC still wasn’t re-organized enough for anyone to take issue with the arrangement. And Herc wasn’t about to bring it to anyone’s attention.

Max whined again as the wind picked up. He definitely felt droplets of rain in the air now. A couple smacked into his face. Fairly soon now it’d probably pick up -- and the chopper was close enough that the air around them was probably getting kicked up in all sorts of directions.

“Come on boy,” he said to Max. “Get back. Gotta give ‘em some room.”

Sure enough, a few ground crew members were scattering in preparation for landing. It almost look like they were reeling the thing in. But before he could contemplate a more fitting mental image, the wind picked up severely. Maybe it was the helicopter, maybe it was the approaching storm -- whatever the case, the sudden spray of raindrops and gusty breezes was enough to make him turn his face away until the damn thing had landed, and the roar of the blades ceased.

A few moments later, the door opened. A professional-looking woman with short blonde hair, who he assumed must be the UNIT head, stepped out, followed by a stocky black woman in military dress. He could see several more nondescript people in uniform inside, but either they were deferring to authority or didn’t want to get wet yet, and didn’t come outside.

“Kate Stewart?” he asked as the first woman drew closer.

“Indeed,” she said.

“And…” he hesitated, realizing he didn’t recognize the other representative. “Sorry, you’ve got the advantage on me.”

“Brigadier-General Adrienne Kramer,” she said. He could tell from her eyes she was already sizing the place -- and him -- up.

“Quite alright, seeing as you’ve got the same on us,” Kate said. “We were expecting Marshal Garter.”

“Ah, sorry -- the Marshal got tied up, sent me instead.” He extended a hand. “Hercules Hansen, Pan-Pacific Defense Corps.”

“Former Ranger?” she asked as she shook. And as much as it bothered him, he couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t so long ago still that his -- and Chuck’s -- faces had been a publicity staple. Recognition was common.

“Former lots of things,” he replied stiffly.

“Well, nice to know we’re expected,” Kate said quickly. Herc had to give her credit -- she could recognize a sensitive topic very gracefully.

Herc cleared his throat awkwardly. “Expect you’ll be wanting to get inside, “ he said, noting she’d drawn her coat around her a bit tighter. Next to her, Kramer remained stoic. “What with the hour and the weather.

“Yes, of course,” Kate said briskly.

Herc nodded back. “Right then,” he said, gesturing towards the Shatterdome door. “This way.”

He watched the UNIT personnel with interest as they followed him in, standing at the doorway to get a good look at everyone. He didn’t know much about their visitors, which only served to make him curious as hell. After the two big shots came the handful of nondescript, lower-rank personnel, he’d noted earlier, probably present simply for matters of security. More baffling was the woman at the rear who, he’d missed on his initial scan -- though she bore an ID badge, she was in clearly civilian dress. What her position could be or why it was deemed important enough to have her come here he was unsure.

She apparently had noticed him watching and gave a lopsided grin as she walked inside. “Love your dog, sir.”

Herc shook his head, amused. “Yeah, wait until he gets ahold of one of your shoes. Just an innocent face ‘til then, but he’s a menace.”

Her smile brightened further, leaving Herc wondering more than before -- decidedly casual clothes, equally so demeanor, and high-priority mission weren’t commonly associated traits.

Kate either picked up on his confusion, or knew conversation well enough to assume it might exist. “Osgood’s UNIT’s head Scientific Advisor,” she said, and the other woman waved a bit sheepishly.

Herc nodded, the pieces clicking into place. That _would_ make her rather important.

...At the same time however, he couldn't help but imagine the PPDC trying the same thing and shaking his head a bit. Lead scientists or no, he couldn’t imagine K-Science and a diplomatic mission being particularly compatible with each other.

“Have to talk to the Marshal and see if we can get you a look at the labs then,” he said, the thought triggered by his tangent. “Probably be relevant to things.”

“Oh?” Kate asked.

“Plan was to get you all something of a tour before talking in earnest,” Herc said. “Not sure what was on the agenda, but I don’t think it included the Kaiju Science department.”

_...which might have been intentional._

But Osgood’s face lit up. “That’d be… well, I’d love to see -- I mean, if it’s possible… I’d…”

 _Scientists,_ Herc thought as he watched her features slip from “overly enthusiastic” to “mildly embarrassed”. Maybe UNIT and the PPDC _did_ have more in common than he’d thought.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “We’ve got some time. Wouldn’t want to get your look around just yet anyways. Things aren’t at their most interesting -- this time of night, most everyone who can afford to be asleep takes the advantage.”

 

\---

 

Newt was sprawled out across his bed, unsure if he’d rather sleeping again or if this was a genuine improvement for things. Because sure, sleep would be nice -- seeing as he’d been suffering from a distinct lack of it lately -- but every time he closed his eyes, panic would start to swell up again.

 The after-images of nightmares -- suspicious, invading whispers, throbs of vicious emotions and terror -- ghosted across his eyes, and his head felt vaguely like it was about to split open. The restless nature of the past few hours was fairly well-alluded to by the tangle of sweat-soaked sheets he’d jolted awake to find this time around, wrapped around his arms and legs from agitated movement. His heart was still racing from adrenaline, and the rest of his body shaky in the unpleasant, confused sort of way that usually accompanied fear responses. And so awake he aimed to stay.

 _Real mature, Geiszler_ , the less-poundy bit of his brain berated, _You know, you used to stay up at night to stave off nightmares when you were, what, six?_

Of course, that was partially because, nearly 30 years later, his stubbornness over asking for help hadn’t diminished in the slightest. But he was reaching the point where if he thought he had the energy he’d seriously consider attempting to drag himself down to Mako’s room and see if he could test out her tea suggestion. But it was out of the question due to both the current hour, and his own exhaustion. And he had a sneaking suspicion that it also had no hope of working. Not to mention, it’d be pretty suspect, and he was trying his absolute best to keep the rest of the Shatterdome from noticing anything was up. Had been since... January? Because if they did, they would have one of three reactions:

  1. “Newt, something bad is happening” (Really not ideal)

  2. “Newt, you screwed something up.” (Even less ideal)

  3. “Newt, something bad is happening _because_ you screwed something up.” (...The absolute least ideal)




Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that all of those reactions, while undesirable, could very possibly be the only first step in fixing things. But Newt Geiszler had never been known for taking that whole difficult, potentially embarrassing, “interpersonal” route to fixing his problems -- not when he could take things into his own hands as an alternative. And he wasn’t about to start now.

“Mmph,” he muttered into his pillow, nerves too shot to express his frustration in any other way. He mostly just wished his heart rate would slow to a point somewhere below “worrying his arteries were going to burst”.

A few restless minutes later, the fight-or-flight bit of his nightmare response finally dying down, he drew his sheets around himself tighter and sighed.

_If the plan is to not go back to sleep… what now?_

No clear solution presented itself.

Well. Actually.... he was kinda hungry. Had he eaten dinner? He couldn’t remember. Maybe there was something worth hunting around for in the refrigerator. If he could drag himself out of bed, it might help calm him down.

His limbs still felt vaguely like jello, but Newt wrapped his blanket around himself tighter and slowly peeled himself from his bed, shuffling towards and out the door. His destination was the shared, multi-purpose space between his and Hermann’s rooms -- part kitchen, part break room, and (theoretically) the K-Science demilitarized zone.

He frowned slightly when he shuffled inside, debating whether or not he should turn on the light switch. He knew it would significantly increase the chances of Hermann being awoken by light from under the door, but he was also still jumpy enough that it would be comforting -- not to mention it’d keep him from tripping over anything and ensuring his colleague would wake up. Maybe it was the lingering headache and chill in his bones, but something urged him to throw caution to the wind and flick the switch.

Which is why he was caught completely by surprise to find out he wasn’t alone.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Hermann don’t give me a heart attack!” he shouted, significantly louder than intended.

_...Oops._

“Newton, I take it that you’re aware it’s _past three in the morning?_ ”

Hermann was sitting at the table, arms crossed in front of him in clear frustration. From the looks of things, he’d been waiting for Newt. Which posed the concerning question: why?

Initial shock dying off, he collected himself a bit. “Good morning to you too, man.”

_“Newton.”_

“Hey, you’re as guilty as I am of being awake. Care to explain?” Newt said, absentmindedly drawing his blanket around himself tighter. This was both unexpected and unfortunate. He didn’t know if he had it in him to brush off suspicion right now.

“I’m afraid I can’t until _you_ do,” Hermann muttered.

“Fine. Be like that. I will too.”

“No,” Herman sighed, “Your childishness aside, I quite literally cannot. The primary reason my sleeping patterns have been erratic as of late seems to correspond with _yours_. A side effect of the drift, perhaps.”

Newt’s eyebrows shot up. It made a bit of sense -- you connect two people’s brain activity, and one of them being in REM sleep and the other up and wandering around might not go over so well. And since he’d been actively avoiding sleeping much for the past week or so… wait _shit_ did that mean--

“--now if you’d care to explain to me why you’ve been up and about at entirely inappropriate hours in the morning for the past _three days_ , perhaps we can resolve this and both get to bed?”

...So Hermann _had_ noticed. Newt thought maybe he’d gotten away with his little nightmare-prevention stints. Apparently not. He wondered just how many of the past few nights Hermann had been awake too, and suddenly felt slightly guilty.

“I’m… I’m uh… you know, I’m just, uh, not…”

"Not what, exactly?”

“Um… feeling… completely 100%?” Newt suggested. As he said so, whatever was causing him all this stress as of late expressed a bit of ironic humor -- a sharp pang from somewhere in his head interrupted further thought process. He winced internally, gritted his teeth, and dug his fingers slightly into the material of his blanket -- the least conspicuous reactions he thought he could muster.

Despite probably not noticing the headache issue, Hermann was clearly unconvinced. But he was also likely too tired himself not to play along (...more of that nice guilt again. _Way to go, dude. Depriving yourself of something you need is stupid but excusable. Other people? Probably not._ )

“You mean you’re feeling ill?” Hermann asked. “You do look a bit pale…”

“I’m… yeah. Sure. Something like that.,” he said. “...Not bad though.” he tacked on quickly

Newt gritted his teeth tighter as another spasm of pain prodded his brain. The headaches were back alright -- _not cool._ Especially seeing as right now he was trying to convince Hermann he was absolutely fine. But if he knew his colleague well, the best way to do that might not necessarily be logically -- if you wanted him to leave you alone, you just had to be really, seriously frustrating. Newt needed something exceedingly annoying, and quick, if he was going to get Hermann off his case.

...But nothing came to mind.

Hermann looked at him, his face slowly transitioning from typical annoyance to something bordering on genuine concern -- genuine concern that Newt wasn’t exactly used to. Apparently things were becoming visual.

“Are you certain?” Hermann said.

“Positive. Just leave me alone, dude, I’m tired.”

“ _As am I_ ,” Hermann hissed, snapping back to frustration very quickly. “I thought we were attempting to determine the source of that.”

“Look what do you want me to do?” Newt managed to mutter through his teeth -- another wave of pain had just raced through his head.

“Something reasonable for once in your life! Do you need to get down to medical?”

“It’s not anything like that! I’m just not sleeping so great.”

Hermann eyed him with suspicion, clearly not buying it -- apparently Newt wasn’t yet being sufficiently difficult. Either that or he really did look as bad as he felt. Maybe both.

_Drat._

“Alright,” Hermann said cautiously, “but I want you to seriously consider the med bay if you exhibit so much as one _hint_ of abnormality in the morning.”

 _Bingo_.

“If that’s all it took to get shipped down to medical, you’d be in and out all day, dude.”

The mix of emotions -- half ready to escort him to the doctors right then and there, half ready to slap him -- on Hermann’s face was something that, were he feeling better, Newt would probably have appreciated greatly. But it for the time being, it just seemed to have done the trick.

“Well excuse me for expressing concern for your welfare,” Hermann said, rising to stand. He leaned forward on his cane to glower slightly more intently. “ _Do_ try to get to sleep at some point. For _both_ our sakes.”

“You _can_ still sleep though, right?” Newt asked carefully. If his stubbornness was really causing that sort of a problem, he’d have to try to hunt for an alternative -- if less-effective -- method of nightmare-combating.

“I have previously,” Hermann sniffed. “It’s not as though we’re entirely dependent. I’ve just had a bit of trouble when you become particularly restless.”

“Particularly restless” _\-- like waking up from panic-inducing dreams?_ That’d probably do it. So maybe it _was_ better for everyone if he didn’t go back to bed. He just, uh, wouldn’t mention the specifics.

“Sorry, man,” he said. “Can’t seem to help it.”

“Perhaps if you made an effort to be a bit less caffeinated,” Hermann muttered, pivoting on his cane and heading for the door opposite Newt’s.

“Yeah… um… I can cut the lights if you want.”

“If you’d be so kind,” Hermann said crisply. “Good _night_ , Newton.”

“...‘night,” Newt said, and watched until the other door clicked shut. Following suit, he flipped the lights off again and, despite the darkness, slid unhappily into the closest chair.

_Great going._

His head still felt a bit like someone had hit it with a sledgehammer, and he’d given up on the idea of looking for food fairly quickly. He wasn’t hungry anymore. And all of a sudden, the single blanket draped around his shoulders wasn’t enough -- he just wanted his bed. Even if he’d just end up lying down in it and trying not to let his eyes get heavy again. How long would he have to go?

He looked up at the single source of light remaining -- the digital numbers on the microwave clock.

_3:36_

It was gonna be another long night.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

**`March 16, 2025` **

**`Hong Kong Shatterdome` **

**`07:39.26 hours` **

* * *

“Hey look, food I can actually recognize,” Raleigh said as he slid into a seat at a dining table and grinning as he noticed the comment had elicited a small smile from Mako. He’d thought she’d be amused. They’d had a couple of food adventures on their most recent trip.

...When they weren’t praying they could get through another interview on nothing but energy bars because their flight had been late. Just one more reason it was nice to be back at the Shatterdome, he supposed.

“It’s a miracle,” she said back, shaking her head a little. “Especially with your appetite.”

“My appetite?” he said. “You trying to say something?”

Mako just laughed.

“Think you two could give me a hand?” came a voice from behind him. Raleigh swiveled to see Herc standing there.

“Depends,” he said, rotating in his seat to face him. “What’s your problem?”

“I gotta help the Marshal give the UNIT folks something of a look-around,” Herc said, “but he’s gettin’ all uptight about our ‘image’ for ‘em. Seems to think we need to look a little more impressive than the Shatterdome’s actually capable of right now.”

“You mean like putting in a front?” Mako frowned.

“Hey don’t look at me,” Herc said, putting his hands up and straightening his back. He looked a little defensive. “They’re Garter’s orders, not mine. I just know he looked like he was about to bust an artery when I mentioned we should add K-Science to the agenda, seeing as UNIT brought a scientist along.”

Now it was Raleigh’s turn to frown. “He doesn’t want them seeing K-Sci? I mean sure it’s messy, but--”

“Keeping secrets, maybe?” Mako asked.

“Not many easy-to-get-at ones down there,” Herc said. “Unless you can understand mathematician. Or illegible. Nah, I think it’s got to do with some people not being so great at first impressions.”

Raleigh thought back to his own arrival in Hong Kong. Probably a fair point. “Don’t think he trusts them to manage one?”

“I don’t think he trust them to do anything much at all,” Herc said. “He’s not exactly giving ‘em much to work with.”

Raleigh nodded, but Mako looked confused. “Funding,” he said to her.

And it was true -- though January’s victories (and hopefully, his and Mako’s publicity efforts) had significantly helped to reverse the tide of PPDC funds, the fact remained that cash was still a tight asset at the Shatterdome. And that retrofitting Jaegers -- by far the current priority -- took up most of it. Throw in simple operating and staffing costs, and the tiny remainder meant that many parts of the Corps were still running on a tight budget -- and few more than what was still the two-man Kaiju Science department. Garter didn’t yet seem particularly enthusiastic about restoring it to greater numbers. Which to Raleigh’s knowledge meant that Dr. Gottlieb and Dr. Geiszler were still running around spread impossibly thin.

It wasn’t something he was about to argue with the marshal -- after all, it also seemed to be working. And the sooner the PPDC had operational Jaegers, the safer they’d all be. Even if other areas temporarily suffered. But he still harbored the sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t sustainable, and was half expecting things to grind to a halt entirely the day one of the scientists just keeled over from exhaustion or something.

“That’s not exactly what I need your help with, though,” Herc said, steering them back to their original topic of conversation. “Long story short, the Marshal seems to think the PPDC isn’t putting its best face forward. I was hoping maybe one or both of you’d be willing to drop by the Jaeger floor later today and give your little spiel -- something like what you’ve been giving everyone for publicity. Your names throw a little weight around these days, and even if that weren’t true, Mako knows the Mark IIIs better than anyone.”

“Sure, we can do that,” Raleigh said, exchanging looks with Mako. She nodded and added. “Yes, no trouble.”

“Alright,” Herc said, pushing up from the table. “I’ve got some more runnin’ around to do, but I’ll see you two on the Jaeger floor around noon.”

They nodded as he walked away, off to go deal with whatever else was keeping him busy these days. Raleigh wasn’t sure what, he just knew that everyone seemed frantic as ever. Stopping the war clock apparently hadn’t stopped the pervading sense of urgency in the Shatterdome. He wasn’t sure anything could -- not as long as there was no guarantee they’d be able to stop worrying they’d have to fight for their lives again.

“You don’t think…” Mako said, then trailed off.

“Don’t think what?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I am not sure. I just wonder sometimes if Marshal Garter is a little uptight about things.”

“You don’t think the place should be run with an iron fist?” Raleigh said wryly.

Mako smiled back. “I don’t think I’d be the one getting into trouble if it was.”

* * *

` **March 17, 2025** `

` **Hong Kong Shatterdome** `

` ` **12:01.45 hours** ` `

* * *

 

Osgood rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, absentmindedly wondering exactly where she was getting her current energy from. Their late night -- or rather, early morning -- arrival hadn’t allowed for much if any rest. Perhaps her current anticipation should be a bit more dampened by jet-lag.

...Helicopter-lag?

Either worked. Next to her, Kate and General Kramer were certainly more subdued -- though in their case it was probably just out of professionalism.

Which she couldn’t seem to channel at the moment. But really, could she be blamed for it? She was hardly the only person on the planet to find PPDC tech fascinating -- every kid with a model Jaeger was evidence of that -- but it was just as well-guarded as it was interesting. Getting a glimpse of the organization’s inner workings sounded _thrilling_.

She glanced as surreptitiously as she could muster towards their accompaniment. Ranger -- should she still call him Ranger? She wasn’t sure, but addressing him as “sir” would probably be safe -- Hansen was the more familiar face, and not just because he’d greeted them upon arrival. Jaeger pilots could be fairly recognizable faces… although she sobered significantly thinking about the fact that there wouldn’t be many more that she’d see around. With him was the intimidating-looking man who’d simply introduced himself as Marshal Garter. Osgood wasn’t sure what to think of him -- she knew people with his sort of rank were rarely the most congenial, but he radiated a sort of authority she wasn’t sure she was entirely comfortable with.

She assumed they must still be waiting for someone, because neither looked about to start a conversation or go anywhere. Which was a little frustrating. And so the rocking continued.

“Rangers!” the Marshal called out suddenly. “There you are!”

A young blonde man and an Asian woman had appeared in the hallway in front of them. They looked exceedingly familiar to her, but she couldn’t pinpoint from where exactly -- if only she were slightly better with faces and things. Hansen had taken her long enough.

“Sorry we’re late, Marshal,” the young man apologized.

“Not by much,” Hansen said, smiling a little. He turned to Osgood and the other UNIT members. “May I introduce Rangers Raleigh Becket and Mako Mori. They’ll be joining us for the first part of today.”

Becket… Mori…

Osgood’s eyes widened. “You’re the pilots we went and shut the Breach!” she blurted -- then instantly regretted when all eyes swiveled to her. Keeping your mouth shut, yes, that was often a good thing. Or at least keeping your thoughts to yourself.

Mori blushed slightly, but nodded and let a tiny smile creep across her face. Becket just smiled back warmly.

“That’s us,” he admitted.

But an awkward silence followed. She bit her lip.

“Well,” Hansen said cautiously, “Looks like we can get started, then?”

There was a murmur of agreement, and Osgood found herself feeling better about her apparent breach of protocol, courtesy of the prospect of getting on with seeing some of the cool stuff.

“Just in here’s the Jaeger Bay,” he continued. “That’s where we’ll start off -- sort of the heart of it all, probably what you’re most interested in seeing anyways.”

_Got that right_ , Osgood thought to herself. Even if she did get to take a peek in the Kaiju Science labs, she was pretty certain her over-excited, inner cool-tech fangirl was behind her current impatience. Perhaps best to get it out of the way indeed.

General Kramer raised an eyebrow. “Surely just to get a look at the facilities?” she said.

Becket and Mori exchanged quick looks, first with each other, then simultaneously towards the Marshal and Hansen. Osgood wasn’t sure exactly what it signified -- their faces were difficult to read -- but it was interesting to note just how clearly in-sync the two Rangers were. _Drift compatible_ , she reminded herself, mind flicking back to the number of nights she’d spent poring over the information about Jaegers released to the public.

Hansen cleared his throat, then gestured towards the doorway in front of them. “See for yourself,” he said, stepping through it.

The contents of the room spurred a bit of a double-take from every single UNIT representative -- even the highest-ups, Osgood was oddly pleased to note.

“I don’t suppose… that’s not functional, is it?” Kate said, pointing towards the massive Jaeger stationed in the furthest docking area.

“Very nearly,” Marshal Garter said, folding his hands behind his back proudly. Almost arrogantly, Osgood thought. “Though I’m not the one you want to ask. Ranger Mori?”

“Vulcan Specter is one of the old Mark-IIIs,” Mori said. “Due to the expertise of the remaining Rangers, we thought it best to--”

“--Official releases after Operation Pitfall said no functional Jaegers remained in Pan-Pacific Defense Corps possession,” Kramer interrupted. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously.

“Official releases were correct,” the Marshal said. “But our restoration team has rather outdone themselves in remedying that, don’t you think?”

Osgood noted that Kate nodded politely, but Kramer kept pressing the issue, unsatisfied.

“And you managed to get all that approved in about two months?”

“Take it from someone who did the paperwork,” Hansen muttered.

“Sorry, but I’m taking it from someone who’s skeptical that international governments would allow for that kind of rapid, drastic re-militarization of an independent organization with no real perceived threat on the horizon,” she said. “And _especially_ one that hasn’t publicized their efforts to do so.”

The Marshal stared her down, clearly unfazed. The tension between the two of them was uncomfortably thick. “There’s no guarantee the kaiju--”

“--Forget the kaiju!” Kramer said. “Politicians are being impossible about any possibility of their return, and there hasn’t exactly been massive support for the Jaeger Program as the solution in recent years.”

“Becket and Mori’s publicity efforts have likely played a role in reversing that mindset,” he said coolly.

“Mindsets don’t ‘reverse’ in less than two months,” Kramer replied. “Especially when you haven’t explicitly advertised your plans for re-armament.”

“Are you accusing me of something, General Kramer? I’m sure everyone present would be absolutely _fascinated_ to hear you say it outright…”

“Only of garnering my suspicion,” she said, unfazed. “I’d like to know what your intentions are, equipping a massive piece of weaponry in such rapid time.”

“I’m sorry, are you implying that UNIT’s relinquished all its _own_ heavy military technology now that the Breach is shut, _General_?” Garter asked.

“UNIT existed for decades before the kaiju attacked,” she said. “The PPDC, however, was created for the sole purpose of fighting them. Which hardly puts its increasing militarization in light of their disappearance in a positive light, _Marshal_. Needless to say, if I didn't trust UNIT’s chain of command, I would not be a _part_ of it.”

“Which makes it sound to me like you’re critical of the chain of command _here_ ,” Garter said coldly.

Osgood bit her lip again, hoping tensions didn’t escalate any further. She’d never interrupt a debate between two... significantly higher-ups... herself, but UNIT was here for diplomatic reasons, weren’t they?

She exchanged a nervous glance with the two Rangers present -- the two people probably of similar rank to herself, and therefore the two people whose reactions it might actually be alright to mirror. Of course, rank wasn’t everything. Even Becket and Mori probably held more leverage than she did -- after all, she hadn’t gone and rather personally saved the world.

Both of them had mildly nervous, possibly a bit confused looks on their faces that probably mirrored her own -- they certainly looked a bit like the way she was feeling. There was a terse and awkward silence, but Becket cleared his throat.

“We dredged up the remains of Vulcan Specter in late January,” he said cautiously. “Partially ‘cause of connections with Sydney, partially ‘cause having a Mark-III around seemed like a good idea.”

Mori seemed to take his speaking as a cue -- Osgood wondered if it was a “someone else has spoken and the tension is broken” scenario or more of a “we tend to finish each other’s sentences, so I’m chiming in too” effect. She could honestly see either being the case.

“Restoration has been very successful,” she said. “In part due to the resources and experience gained by personnel when performing similar procedures on the Gipsy Danger months ago.”

Kate appeared to be taking their subject change and running with it, likely for the same reasons -- perhaps attempting to salvage the visit before it had even begun.

“Also a Mark-III?” she asked them. Both nodded, in unison.

“Mako was also in charge of Gipsy’s restoration,” Herc said, hopping in on the conversation-patching. “Now we’ve got both of ‘em cleaning up Vulcan.”

“Was there much that needed to be done?” Kate asked.

Mori and Becket exchanged glances that, if Osgood was reading them right, rather clearly said “yes”.

“There was the damage inflicted by the kaiju that originally put it out of commission,” Mori said. “But perhaps more crippling was the water damage from spending so long in Oblivion Bay.”

“Everybody’s been working ‘round the clock to get her up and running,” Raleigh said, a little proudly. “J-techs, LOCCENT, Rangers… I think it’s accurate to say ‘the Shatterdome never sleeps’.”

“Except for when we came in last night,” Osgood joked. She regretted it when everyone looked at her a bit oddly. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just that last night -- this morning? -- Hansen -- sir? -- said something about everyone being asleep, I know he didn’t mean _everyone_ quite so literally, but…”

There were a couple of wry smiles, all from the Rangers. Osgood felt a little embarrassed again. But Hansen just shook his head, looking amused,

“That’s right,” he said. “Believe I also promised you a visit to K-Science, young lady. We’ve got a lot more Shatterdome to cover if we wanna get there though. Shall we?”

“Of course,” Kate said. “Lead the way.”

As they started to leave the room, headed to… wherever the PPDC group thought they’d go next, Osgood paused a moment to make eye contact with Hansen. As inconspicuously as she could, she mouthed a little “thank you”.

He nodded back. “No problem,” he said. He paused, then pointed at her lapel. “Thought you were a dog person?’

“What?” she said, looking down. She nodded in acknowledgement a moment later -- he was pointing at her cat pin. “Oh! I mean, I like cats too, I’ve never really felt like deciding -- both make me sneeze? -- but dogs are also… well, you know,” she felt her face redden. “Actually I wear this for different reasons,” she said finally.

Herc shook his head, apparently still amused, then held out his hand to gesture towards the door. She started walking in the direction he’d indicated.

“Just don’t let Max hear you say that,” she heard him said under his breath. She turned around to crack a smile.

Of course she wouldn’t -- after all, they were trying to make a good impression on the PPDC. And that probably included their dogs.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**`March 16, 2025` **

**`Hong Kong Shatterdome` **

**`12:54.31 hours` **

* * *

 

**  
** Herc was more nervous than he probably needed to be as their little tour group entered the K-Science lab. But it was hard to help -- the Marshal was not happy.

He wasn’t sure if that was all because of the argument with the UNIT representative in the Jaeger bay, or if it included whatever prejudice the man had against heading to the lab in the first place. But whatever the reason, Mako and Raleigh had sensed it too, both giving him sympathetic looks as they mentioned “other important things”, apologized for the “inconvenience”, and (perhaps wisely) slipped away.

But if Herc was hoping for any more solidarity -- or at least sympathy -- from fellow Corps employees, he was in the wrong place. As notoriously distracted as ever, the scientists didn’t even seem to be expecting visitors. (At that, he sighed a little internally. While he hadn’t expected Newt to notice the memo he’d tried to send them, he’d at least harbored a hope that Gottlieb might.)

Hermann was sitting at his desk and staring down at something that, from the look that rather briefly crossed his face, he’d rather not have interrupted; Newt was hacking away at something that… looked… like an organ (or more like it once had been), nitrile gloves absolutely dripping with assorted kaiju bodily fluids. Herc cringed, mentally reassuring himself that lab technique hadn’t gotten the biologist killed -- yet. Only a slight comfort when you remembered he’d still gone and plugged himself into one of the damn things.

“Doesn’t look like you can get much more out of that one,” he said jokingly as he took a spot near the biologist’s table, waiting for the others to shuffle in, hoping to quietly make their presence known. His eyes subconsciously darted to Garter, wondering if casual conversation would be a yay or nay, but the Marshal remained expressionless.

Newt, however, seemed oblivious to any larger implications. He merely looked up, frowning, and shook a gloved hand clean to push his glasses up.

“You know,” he said, “it’s not exactly like I’m getting any more.”

From across the room Gottlieb sighed loudly. “Could you _try_ not to sound so disappointed when you say that?” he said.

“Well it’s true,” Newt muttered.

“No, it’s _insensitive_.”

The Marshal cleared his throat. “Gentlemen,” he said curtly. Herc noticed that Gottlieb almost immediately snapped to attention, but Newt just rolled his eyes slightly.

Either Garter didn’t notice, or he decided he’d rather keep up appearances. He turned to Osgood, Kramer, and Lethbridge-Stewart.

“Our research team,” he said, gesturing towards the scientists. “Dr. Hermann Gottlieb and Dr. Newton Geiszler. And to you two gentlemen, may I introduce UNIT head Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, Brigadier General Adrienne Kramer, and their science department head….” he hesitated.

“Osgood,” she said cheerfully.

“...Osgood,” he repeated, giving her a bit of an odd look.

Gottlieb nodded politely. “A pleasure,” he said.

“S’up?” Newt grinned.

Herc watched as Garter pursed his lips, stoic facade already failing. “We’re offering our guests a tour of the facilities,” he said eventually. But he’d spent too long collecting himself, as his next sentence got slightly trampled by a curious Osgood’s.

“So, if you’ll be so kind--”

“--What kind of a gland is that?"

Herc noticed Osgood's face light up bright red the moment she realized her mistake, but Newt's simultaneously lit up.

“Well,” he started, his hands gearing up for the motions they made when he went into lecture mode. Herc took a cautious step away, furthering the already generous distance he'd secured between himself and Newt's viscera-splattered workspace, knowing full well the scientist's tendency to send caution to the wind when excited. “It doesn’t _exactly_ have an equivalent in humans, seeing as we don’t have all the senses and abilities the kaiju do. Might have to do with the hivemind? But yeah, it’s definitely some kind of gland, because all the hormonal traces evident in the--”

The Marshal cleared his throat again. “I think that’s rather enough, Dr. Geiszler, don’t you?”

Newt’s expression was a very clear “No, no I don’t”, but before he could say something they’d probably all regret, Gottlieb of all people interrupted.

“My colleague, however, appreciates your curiosity,” he said calmly.

“But--” Newt started.

“--We _both_ do.”

Garter nodded curtly, turning his eyes back to the UNIT people. “K-Science,” he said, trying to smooth everything back into his preferred, non-interrupted fantasy of a tour, “has been responsible for a number of research insights that paved the way for successful jaeger drops, Operation Pitfall expressly included.”

Kramer nodded curtly, though Herc wasn’t sure if she was primarily sticking to pleasantries now or genuinely interested. Given that she side-stepped the Marshal with her following question, it was probably a combination of both.

“I take it you two are both department heads then?” she asked, addressing the scientists instead.

The two of them exchanged looks.

“....Yes and no,” Newt said. “See…”

“...while it is true that we head up research in our own particular fields of expertise, I’m afraid we’re not ‘heads’ of anything, madam. We’re all there is.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, since the--”

“--They’re remarkably productive,” Garter muttered, gritting his teeth.

“Must have a hell of a method for gathering experimental data,” she shot back. Across the room, Newt lit up again, like a firework -- looking almost equally as likely to explode, in a cascade of information about his experiments.

“Well, if you’re talking about the Dri--”

“--That information is _classified_ , Dr. Geiszler, and you would do best to remember it,” the Marshal hissed at him. Newt gave him a look that could honestly only be categorized as “pouting” before ignoring everyone else and the room entirely and getting back to hacking at the specimen on the table in front of him.

Kramer’s eyebrow raised once more, but beyond giving the Marshal a somewhat-suspicious glance she seemed content to let the issue rest -- though maybe only for the time being. Both organizations, while somewhat mistrustful of each other thus far, were guaranteed to have their secrets.

“I’m sure whatever methodology is _open_ for discussion will be of interest to UNIT as well,” she said instead, gesturing to Osgood -- who, either oblivious to or tactful of the tension, seemed unreservedly excited about the prospect, and grinned.

“We’re hoping the science departments will be one of the easiest areas to open up collaboration,” Kate added, breaking her relative silence to join the conversation herself. “Particularly as the sharing of our respective research should leave everyone the more knowledgeable.”

“And better equipped to defend ourselves,” Kramer added.

“A sentiment I can assure you the Pan Pacific Defense Corps reciprocates,” Garter said. “In fact--”

Suddenly, there was a sound of shattering of glass across the room.

“Newton!” Gottlieb said, alarmed, using his cane to push himself upwards rapidly. Herc followed his eyes to the other scientist, and was alarmed himself to see Newt staring off blankly, his left glove shredded across the palm and slowly discoloring red from a gash in the center. A vial next to him had hit the floor, but the exact sequence of events was unclear. As far as he could tell, Newt must have accidentally sliced himself and knocked the glass with it.

“Newton, can you hear me?” Gottlieb said, now halfway to Newt’s desk. “Are you alright?”

Newt blinked, oddly slowly, as if waking up, then looked at Gottlieb. “I’m… fine. I think?” he said. Then he looked at his hand, eyes widening, and hissed in pain. “Yup.” He gritted his teeth, with a sideways nervous glance at the Marshal. “Just fine.”

Garter pierced him with a glare that could have set less stubborn men on fire. Slowly, he turned to the UNIT reps.

“We have other things to see,” he said gruffly, turning towards the door. Kramer, Kate, and Osgood all seemed to hesitate, likely concerned by the new development, but Garter was having none of it.

“Ladies,” he said. “I’m sure you’re eager to finish the tour of the facilities so we can begin our negotiations in earnest.”

Kate nodded slowly, headed towards the door in what was almost certainly just an effort not to makes waves before they could even begin their talks. Kramer looked about to object again, but followed her lead. As did Osgood, not surprisingly. Their lingering looks backwards expressed concern, but also uncertainty about what exactly should be done.

Soon, Herc was left alone with the two scientists.

“You alright there, Newt?” he said carefully. There was a noncommittal sound of reply from the biologist, who seemed to be more preoccupied with how he got injured than the injury itself.

“I... don’t know what happened,” he said, still staring at his hand.

“Perhaps the disaster that is your sleep cycle as of late has something to do with it,” Gottlieb said, frowning as he finally got near enough to get a good look at Newt’s hand. “Fortunately, it doesn’t look too serious.”

“Still might want it checked out,” Herc said, eyes less on Newt’s hand and more on the biohazards around it. "You want some help cleaning up the glass?"

“No,” Newt said adamantly. The other two were taken aback by the strength of his reply. “No,” he said less strongly, “I can, um, take care of it myself. Really, no problem."

Whent he other two looked unconvinced, he continued. "I’m fine you guys, seriously. Herm’s probably right for once, I must just be tired.”

“I do _not_ recall ever authorizing that nickname.”

“You don’t ‘authorize’ a nickname, dude -- they just happen.”

“Regardless of your opinion--”

“--Just get that looked over for me, Newt, okay?” Herc sighed, deciding he’d rather not sit through another infamous K-Science bicker-fest. “Garter might not seem to care, but I’m not about to let someone technically under my authority drop dead from kaiju poisoning.”

 _Or anything else,_ he added mentally, wincing internally at the thought.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you want,” Newt said. Herc grabbed his right arm and pulled slightly, drawing his attention fully.

“Newt, I mean it,” he said. “I’m not letting anything happen to a Corps member on my watch -- _any_ Corps member. Get that checked out.”

“Um… sure thing, sir. I’ll… I’ll be sure to do that.”

“And _I’ll_ be sure he’s sure,” Gottlieb said.

“Hermann, whatever you believe, you are _not_ my mother!”

“If you actually took care of yourself, I wouldn’t _have_ to--”

“--I’ll see you later, gentlemen,” Herc said, heading for the door before things could escalate any further. “Hopefully major health issue-free.”

The two of them were snapped out of their escalating argument to say their goodbyes.

“Yeah, definitely!”

“Of course, sir.”

Despite their reassurances, there was still something that felt funny about the whole situation. As he left the lab, he couldn't shake the thought that something was... off. Both the scientists responses gave him no reason to worry, so Herc wondered... why _did_ he?

 

 

 

 


End file.
